Well executed

My town of origin featuring fat men in boxer shorts!

Looking like plants

While Junior and I had a pleasurable one hundred and seventy kilometres yesterday, avoiding the heavy showers that traversed the Auckland Isthmus and enjoying a sterling tailwind for tens of kilometres, the Hudson Gavin Martin Auckland 1000 was being raced out at Karaka in some very mixed conditions.
The Crocodile decided he should done his racing spurs and raced B grade there. The following is his report from the battlefield:-

"Auckland 1000 starting at Karaka Hall following 2007 national road race course. First surprise for me was that B grade distance was 78km not 104 as I had thought. Three times around the twenty six kilometre lap.

There were forty odd starters in B grade - mostly from Counties-Manukau Cycling club, a few from North shore and some out of towners. Apparently there were a few B grade burglers from A grade as well.

Decision 1: which bike to use? Decided to use old one because not used to new setup and because of conditions. Great decision as the conditions were terrible and there was at least one very dicey moment.

Decision 2: which wheels to use? Bonty 65mm carbon tubulars or Dura Ace 23mm carbon clinchers. Decided to use 23mm because of wind. Great decision again as the wind was quite strong & gusty on the more exposed sections of road and the torrential rain in parts.

I have just had my old Polar HR monitor refurbished and discovered that I hadn't set it up - so I don't have any speed stats - plus I didn't start it unitl 10-15min into the race. I'm guessing that we would have averaged around thirty six km/hr in those conditions.

The race started fairly speedily with a few break away groups getting away for a while. About thirty minutes into the race there was a forty-five minute period where the acid was on. For most of this period I was just sitting pretty-much in towards the end of the bunch - until towards the end of the period where I was on the front helping to chase down some groups.

The last lap and a half, I felt much more relaxed and found myself off the front a few times when leading the bunch up some gradual inclines - although didn't take these much further as I thought it would just waste my energy. Also bridged over to a couple of small breakaway groups at times, but they were chased down by the bunch. I think the pack was just strategically saving their energy towards the end.

Torrential rain hit the race on the second and third laps, so much so that I thought they may have even called it off for safety reasons - I could not see very well at times.

With three km to go, I was feeling great & placed third, going down a hill into a sweeping/tight left hander when the two bikes just in front of my wheel spilled onto the road way. Thought I was a goner for sure and took evasive action by straightening up and headed straight down a grassy/rocky drainage ditch below the roadway. I managed to stay on and slowly ride ten metres on the grass (in a very inappropriate gear) back onto the road - but the rest of the bunch had time to get around the other guys & were up the road. I managed to eventually ride up past the commissars car and onto the back of the bunch - with a sizeable oxygen debt - only to discover that the final sprint was on and I finished towards the end of the bunch.

Anyway, I was quite happy to stay on my bike given the conditions & spills, plus it was quite a good speed workout for me."

Struth!

The flowery crown withers

My troll this morning through the pre-dawn, subsequent brightening and daylight was quiet and magical in many ways. Now that the dawn is getting earlier I have been able to strike further into rural countryside.

Riding in the dark has never been an issue for me, but there are some country roads that present a few risks that even a decent headlight can't offset. Now, by the time I reach the risky sections, the faint and flat light that seeps around for sometime before sunrise allows me to ride these.

Heading out the door as most of the world sleeps is a strangely perverse luxury. The riding through deserted streets and being untroubled by traffic and most other hazards is worth every minute of curtailed sleep. It is a feeling of having the world to yourself, hard to capture in many other ways in an urban environment.

This morning as I headed out along the bikepath beside the Norwestern Motorway I was taken with Mars, clearly visible in the moonless sky, the Red Planet. I had seen it earlier in the week when I was out near the airport, and as it was this morning, it was simply brilliant.

Watching dawn creep is always a pleasure, best seen on the water's edge or from a raised vantage point like a hill or ridge. This morning's ride provided uncluttered elevated views at various times of the brightening skies, but the highlight came when I was back on the flat.

As I approached the western end of the bike path, the sun had just risen. The sky was quite hazy, a faint pink like a young snapper, the city was silhouetted across the silver harbour and rising up through this was a pearly disk. For a minute or two the haze made the sun quite distinct and pale, then rising a little higher it could no longer be watched directly.

On a side note the the International Space Station is visible throughout the day in New Zealand as it orbits overhead. Go Here to find out viewing times.

Schulz and his interference in my childhood

A Christchurch loop.
This really is a tour of my childhood stomping grounds. A lot of the roads travelled on this loop I rode both bikes and horses around as I grew up in the countryside south of Christchurch.
As a loop, it is pretty flat, but hey! that's a feature of riding around Christchurch. The middle section from Motukarara, over Gebbies Pass, around Lyttleton Harbour and out over Evans Pass are rolling with a couple of climbs, but most of it is pancake flat.
I've started the loop at the foot of the Port Hills, at the end of Colombo Street. It was here and a couple of kilometres further along Cashmere Road that my father took me to watch the 1974 Commonwealth Games cycling road race. My memory of the day is pretty hazy, but I do remember seeing the peloton climbing Hackthorne Road. It looked like a wall to me, and my mother's car used to grind up there protesting, so to ride up there, that was god like.
My other, more vivid and enduring, memory of the 1974 Commonwealth Games is also one of my more embarrassing. At that time Christchurch, New Zealand was still relatively unsophisticated and certainly in Prebbleton or Halswell we had no canned fizzy drinks. Sweets were in multiples per cent and popsicles were less than ten cents.
Friends of my parents had come over from Sydney, Australia and with them they bought some cans of drinks. They gave me one, the can was steel, orange in colour and had a Peanuts carton on the outside. To my eight year old mind it was a thing of wonder and I was going to save it for a special moment.
Our family went to one of the sessions of the track and field programme of the Commonwealth Games at QEII Park, it was Sunday, a warm summer's Sunday. Being Sunday, and an important occasion, I was dressed in my Sunday Best, as were most of the rest of the crowd in the grandstands that day. In addition to being dressed in my Sunday Best I had my prize possession, my unopened can of drink.
As was my usual fashion on family outings to public events I quickly took off and ran wild. I'd been bought up on a diet of expeditions to country races and A&P shows from an early age, and was an old hand at dealing with crowds and finding things of interest and other like-minded children. I set off, with prized can in hand, wanting to find other kids, have a chat and play, then at the appropriate moment, open my can of nectar and consume the contents to the awe of the assembled child crowd.
But there were no like-minded children, in fact there were no roaming children other than myself, so after exploring the underside of the grandstand, wandering about finding nothing of interest I decided I better watch some athletics.
I went across the stand to find a free seat, and there I perched watching the pole-vault. In front of me was a family group, I can recall nothing of them, except the father. He was dressed in a dark brown suit.
I was thirsty, so now was the time to enjoy my rare beverage. I pulled on the ring tab as I had been shown. What happened next wasn't even close to what I imagined would happen, but was a surprise nevertheless. The contents of the can, well shaken by an active small boy's exploring, exploded out in a shower of orange stickiness. A number of people were hit by the warm shower of orange fizzy water, but worst of all, was most of this orange stickiness spraying on the father in the brown suit.
I was mortified, most of my drink had gone, it had escaped of it's own volition and what was left was warm and syrupy sweet. My hands were sticky and I now had a very perplexed and angry man in front of me.
So, before he could say anything, I did what any eight year old boy would do, and ran off, eventually finding my parents. Fortunately I never saw the brown suited man again and for a number of years after canned drinks arrived in New Zealand I was deeply suspicious of opening them.

Back to the loop, it follows around the foot of the Port Hills to Tai Tapu, then out through the long straights around Greenpark to Motukarara. Finally at Motukarara the road tilts up for a short time as it climbs over Gebbies Pass and into Lyttleton Harbour. From there it's a very pleasant wind around the inner harbour, and in and out of bays, before climbing back out over Evans Pass to drop down to Sumner. The last part of the loop follows the foot of the Port Hills back to the start point.

The loop is approximately eighty four kilometres and can easily be added onto through Christchurch. Also if you are feeling like a bit of climbing, it's a good detour left at the top of Gebbies Pass and along the Summit Road and follow it along the top of the Port Hills to the top of Evans Pass. The views on a clear day are magnificent. Less pleasant is the climb out of Govenors Bay up Dyers Pass Road to join the Summit Road, steep and shoulderless, it's just a grunt.

Here's the loop here.

http://www.mapmyride.com/route/nz/christchurch/555125127697051602

Jughead

Last Wednesday evening I let CTB drag me around the better (or harder) parts of his Nutcracker Suite. He was on his trusty cyclocross rig and I on my road bike. As will be shown later, one of us made the right rig choice.

We trolled across town and up Kitchener Street. There I engaged my trusty twenty five tooth cog on my rear cassette and grunted and heaved the bike skyward. CTB leading the way, me following like a man who has been a couple of rounds with Jack Dempsey, and that was only the first and shortest climb.

Then we tackled Liverpool Street, marginally easier than the last time I rode it, but still a horror that darkness serves well. At the top I was several lengths adrift, the world was unable to be heard over my pounding heart and pedestrians in the immediate area were fearful of being inhaled.

After a brief roll and chat we plunged down a footpath in the back of Arch Hill and then turned at the bottom to ride up again. Here, the lack of run up and my sheer lack of coordination meant that it took me three goes to clip in and let the climb assault me. I was so slow that CTB had darted up to the top and was inching his way back down the precipice before I was even near half way up.

From the top we started to descent again, but then engaged in a hard left. This was where my rig choice was shown up as being inadequate. I was quite unable to make the turn, feeling that at walking pace I was about to be pitched over the handlebars, the front wheel folding under and my trajectory carrying me a long way down the muddy grass slope. Thankfully, this was my fear and not the reality.

I managed to unclip and get a foot down, then remounted and rode into the pitch black bush, following a narrow, winding metal track. Here my handlebar mounted headlight was about as useful as a candle and I squealed like a pig at a couple of near misses with the shoulder of the track, feeling it drop away.

Eventually after a few more bits of nastiness we adjourned to a small bar in Mt Eden. After a brief fortification with about one point two litres of beer each, we set out to tackle Big King.

There, with admirable Beer Strength I attacked the first wall, only to blow. CTB danced away from me like a butterfly, the steep gradient serving him well. At the summit, in the dark, with the city lights laid out around us, we were flushed, panting and kings for a moment.

It was urban bike fun at it's best.

I will head in some time with a slant level to get accurate gradients, the data off my garmin being patchy, but from what I can see, Liverpool Street is twenty seven percent, the other climbs are less. Good fun stuff up or down.

Cycle Friendly Cities

This morning, on Chris Laidlaw's regular Radio New Zealand National Sunday show, was this interesting piece on Cycle Friendly Cities. The fifty two minute piece covers three sections, a cycle culture expert on Copenhagen, a Wellington City Councillor and developments in Wellington and then Kieran Turner, CEO of BikeNZ. It's aimed more around commuting cycling and leisure, than recreation, but does provide food for thought and is certainly worth a listen.

The audio can be found here

The other white meat

Perfect listening on this morning's pre-dawn haul around through Bethall's Quarry.

The Pequod

Call me Ishmael.

I was recruited into a band of three riders to set out for a riding encounter with some hills and grades in the verdant Waitakeres. I will attempt to recount the full comedic horror of bearing witness to the self sought destruction of the usual Author of this Blog, who for the purposes of this narrative will be known as Captain Ahab, at the hands of The Crocodile.

At the appointed hour, our vessel, the three of us, like a short-manned ship, sailed forth. Captain Ahab was still stinking from a night spent well in his cups, full of bluster and a will to impose his route upon the Crew. The passage chosen and the course was set. We traversed the bike path and Crows Road peacefully, uneventfully with little sign of The Captain's crapulous state of health.

On Wairere Road, as the road pointed skyward I, Ishmael, and The Crocodile left the grunting Captain Ahab lurching lonely and rudderless in our wake, The Crocodile continued to talk, not grunt out single words as he rode the grade, no, he proffered fully formed sentences in a conversational manner. This lop-sided chat continued up the climb, while the Captain drifted increasingly further rearward.

We stopped at the top of that skyward passage, before the plunge down the Duffy Road precipice, there Captain Ahab rejoined us gasping, red-faced and still smelling like the bottom of freshly drained barrel. After a rapid descent down to Te Henga Road, we, as a three man vessel again, faced the challenge of the Bethalls Quarry.

The Captain hung grimly to our wheels as the road ground upwards, but for only a short time, mind. His tenure as a member the crew of our vessel was terminated with the effortless pace from The Crocodile, who was now being reborn in the mind of the foul Captain as the author of his inner pain and suffering, veritably his own private Great White Whale, Moby Dick.

On the second ramp of the climb, The Crocodile continued with his infernal pace, without a trace of exersion. This required that I abate my rate of climb to preserve my diginity. Adjusted, I continued to climb steadily and quickly. The Captain, dragging an anchor, was lost from view. Eventually the triumvirate reformed when Captain Ahab appeared on the crest of the hill, to rejoin the rested and waiting crew.

On the next climb, Christian Road, the pace was civil and within the capability of the mentally deteriorating Captain. It was on the next climb, Coulter Road, that the Captain decided strike out at his nemesis, his fellow crew mate, who he now viewed as Moby Dick. The Captain set upon the climb with gusto, riding a pace that was madness given his less than devastating climbing prowess, The Crocodile and I hung there with him. After a short interval The Captain imploded, his legs and lungs betraying his unhinged mind and he was left, desolate as we continued apace.

After an indeterminate wait, the rapid plunge down Vineyard Road, we then we approached Forest Hill Road as a group, to tackle the final climb of the day. We climbed together bound as a crew, but as the final ramps were upon us The Crocodile set a steady, but not unreasonable, pace at their onset. His pace was like a flick from the flukes of the Great White Whale, destroying the Captain and his madness, sending him plummeting into a deep, private hell and a slow simpering death on those final dreadful ramps. I was left in the middle, watching The Crocodile glide away, while the Captain was left destroyed.

This be a recounting of last Sunday's ride written as the imagined voice of Junior, who was present, and who was the narrator for this tale of hubris and destruction.

This Sunday we are going to tackle a similar route, The Heart of Darkness this time, maybe?

The horror, the horror...

This was space

What's up with all these hoary old bands getting together for revival tours? Men, usually, well past their youth, getting on again like nothing acrimonious ever passed between them, all for the sake of a bit of wallet depletion in the name of nostalgia.

Over the past couple of years there have been a number of tours of reformed groups, all who haven't produced anything since their prime, but are held closely to the bosum of us born in the decade of peace, love and sunshine. These bands are no longer Angry Young Men and I'd wager that good deal of them no longer hold dear the tennents of their beliefs that they had when they wrote their material. So, what gives?

Don't misunderstand me and think that I am saying that once you reach a certain age you should no longer take the stage. Heaven forbid that thinking. There are a growing number of artists who are ageing and still adding to their body of work with new material that is worthy and innovative, in many cases maturity adding new dimensions. Additionally, these chaps live have a body of work and experience that allow for deeply enriching concert experiences.

My gripe, and what I maintain, is that an artist, or group, who are just trading on nostalgia won't be getting any of my wallet contents.

Enough grizzling, CTB and I are off for another scout of new sections of road bike urban foolishness. Come Wednesday night we will be finding excuses for feeling brave. Then we will have a beer or two, before we wobble off again.

In the interim, I decided to plot out the route of the Nutcracker Suite. This little loop of torture and terror is not of my creation, it was the inspired creation of CTB, and his fevered hand lays heavily upon it.

Here it is:-

http://www.mapmyride.com/route/nz/auckland/323125046384124300

Go, tackle it, I'd recommend at least a twenty six on the back, a securely fastened stem and a good dose of Chopper Read as essential components.

We had often thought it would be fun to have a competition around this loop. Open to anyone, they just post their time. I might even be brave and post my next attempt, that will give a nice, low baseline.

We've all seen Bonanza

So, here's my take on event riding and a few dos and don'ts.
First up a definition of what I mean by event. I'm talking fun rides/events, like Round Taupo, K2, Le Race. Yes, these events all have a race component, but that's not what I'm referring to. Specifically, what I want to discuss, is the part of the event that is open to all punters, you don't need a cycling license to enter and most riders are riding for participation and/or a goal time. This is what the great majority of riders take part in.

Without getting into semantics, it's not a race, but there is an element of racing present.

So onto my list of dos and don'ts.

The dos.

Do make sure that your gear is up to the task. That your gears shift properly, your tires are in good condition, you have the appropriate gearing, that everything is properly tightened and affixed to your bike.

The gear shifting one is important, every event has crashes or near misses because when the bunch hits the hill, some one shifts big ring to small ring, and Voila! the chain goes all the way across to the cogless bottom bracket. The rider spins frantically, if lucky they can catch the chain again by upshifting, if not they wobble to a halt. Both outcomes cause mayhem in the bunch. Get your front derailleur limit screws set and, if needs be, get a dog fang or similar.

Tires, there's a whole can of worms. Two stories to labour the point. First one was the year of the first K2. That year it started in Coromandel, we were staying just past Kereta, about twenty kilometres in and after the first two climbs. The Tribe were out on the side of the road outside the house to wave and cheer. Various bunches came through, then a slightly panic stricken rider appeared and stopped to ask The Tribe if they had a spare tube. He was riding a newish pair of the ultralight Vittoria clinchers, tires that are fast and light, suitable for TTs and smooth roads. Excellent tires with a specific purpose, not mass start, long distance, bad road events. On the terrible Coromandel chip he had suffered two flats in that short time and had just copped a third. His luck was in, in the back of the car was not only a couple of spare tubes and a track pump, but also a spare tyre that I'd taken that was ideal for the day. He changed tire and tube, left a more confident man and rode on to finish the day. After the event we caught up and swapped tires back. He was grateful.

The other story concerns last years K2, a friend was providing neutral support, he is a pro mechanic and equipped for everything. On the start line he heard the bang of a tire exploding, it was a tubular, sees the rider concerned try to use a can of Pitstop to seal the veritable gash. Latex and goo just ejects out of the gash, sprays over various other assorted riders nearby. Mechanic gets there and takes the wheel, gives the rider a clincher that he can start on, and sets about the repair of the tire. The tire in question, had seen better days, was down to the casing in places and was a disaster waiting to happen. Possibly for the rider involved, lucky it was on the start line that it decided to commit seppuku and not on one of the ripping descents. Less happy were the gooey innocents.

Correct gearing, yeah that's me, a shell of a man, trying to climb three kilometres of ugliness with only a 39*23. That produced a thousand yard stare and a helluva a lot of drool.

Making sure things are affixed to your bike, I'm still amazed by the riders who like to throw their pumps away mid event. Never mind that riding over the damn things is treacherous.

Do make sure that you are in the bunch that meets your ability. Be pragmatic and realistic, that way you'll have a truckload more fun, a better ride and finish with a grin, not a grimace.

Do obey the road rules and the organisers rules. You are not above everybody else. Those rules are there for everyone's safety, including the general public who might be lurking about, they do have a right to be on the roads also.

Do train with others prior to the event, learn to ride in a bunch, learn to lap, learn to eat and drink on a bike.

Do eat regularly on the day and drink, it works.

Do have fun and share the time with your fellow riders, you are all in the same boat, and working together is how you get around the course in a good time. If the bunch is lapping it out, make sure that you follow through for your lap, that you're are steady as you lap and point out hazards. If you are too tired to join in the lapping, stay out of the pace line and ride on the back of the bunch. Tell the riders who are rotating that you are sitting on, and stay out of their way. Nothing wrecks a paceline faster than a rider who gets tangled up in it, realises that they are going to face the wind, so drifts off or just sits there, frustrating plus for all involved.

Do thank the course marshalls, most of them are volunteers, without them, most of these events wouldn't exist.

The Don'ts

Don't litter. Don't drop your food wrappers, put them back in your pocket.

Don't ride off and leave the fallen. If there is a crash, stop and make sure that the injured are ok, if they aren't, provide help.

Don't have a support vehicle following you. The riders who have support vehicles are special needs cases, I believe that most of them should be lined up against a wall and beaten with the chopped up remains of their bikes. There is ample support on course with events that you can survive, and have a good day out. A supporting vehicle just adds to traffic congestion, plus provides another opportunity for crashes.

Last year's horrific crash in the K2 which left a rider seriously injured was due to some remarkably stupid driving from a rider's support vehicle. Never mind that the rules stated NO support vehicles, this particular rider and his tame racing driver were wearing their asshats that day and decided that the rules didn't apply to them. Net result, a very badly injured rider, a lot of finger pointing at local bogans and heartache for the organisers. To add insult to injury the rider, and driver involved, didn't then do the right thing and admit responsibility. It was left to the organisers to drag them out and disqualify them. If I'd had anything to do with it, they would have been made to do all the housework, care and day to day living requirements for the injured rider and his family, then be tarred and feathered and made to climb on the podium at every subsequent event and explain how selfish and stupid they were.

That was not an isolated incident of selfishness, I've seen them all, from gormless drivers driving alongside the bunch yelling "Go Johnny, I love you!", to a family who launched a supporting daughter on her own bike, at regular intervals, into the bunch to provision her proud father, who was riding the event. She would wobble in, hand over supplies and wobble out, to be collected by the mothership and taken up the road for the next sortie.

Just don't do it.

Lastly, don't be the clown.

Do the right thing, be considerate and have fun.

Lest anyone think I am picking on the K2, I'm not, the examples I have laid out occur in all events, they aren't unique to K2. At K2, like all events, the organisers do a superb job, almost all the riders are great and a real pleasure to ride with and it's a fantastic day out.

The Dark Nest Of Your Village

Today I was out for a lunchtime preamble around Eden Terrace, Auckland. For those of you not familiar with the area, it is an old part of Auckland, with a maze of narrow streets, often one-way and, more often than not, reasonably steep. I've ridden through quite a bit of it at times, sometimes feeling like I was about to heave and go knock-kneed from the effort, especially following CTB as we followed his Nut Cracker Suite.

I was trying to work out a new permutation of the streets to allow a couple of previously unridden sections to be added in to a loop. As a bonus I got to see some old rundown villas, some restored villas and various small business operating out of ramshackle premises. All quite interesting.

Until I got to the bottom end of Fleet Street, there I discovered what are arguably the worst situated apartments in Auckland. I will return with a camera to capture the true horror of what I saw. Imagine a line of shoe boxes stacked six high, with their ends cut off so you can see in. These, set facing SE, slightly below street level and a large turning bay for the front yard, have no privacy and no sense of humanity. How did this happen?

Speaking of bad planning, on Sunday, at the death, one hundred and sixty kilometres under my belt, I followed The Croc and Junior onto the Norwest bikepath east of St Lukes Road. I have ridden that in the past, fresh, and thought it a pretty miserable experience. Several stop signs, a couple of nasty little pinches, one short wall and threading in and out of narrow streets. After the width and freedom of the bike path proper, it was a nightmare, and to add insult to injury the ramp up to Newton Road was where my form left me, and I was left a shell of a man.

What gets me, is that planners have planned and built an excellent path West of St Lukes Road, past Chamberlain Park, through Unitech and out along the side of the Norwestern Motorway. But East of St Lukes Road, they have had some sort of collective ice cream headache and routed the thing through very bike unfriendly streets. All okay if you are fit and familiar with the route, but not at all friendly for Jo and Josephine Average, or for the Sunday Family Ride. My One Point Three meters of Kaos Kreation is pretty fit and strong on a bike, but there's no way he'd survive the walls and bergs that present en route.

What I'd like to see is some sort of continuity with the existing bike path West of St Lukes Road and segregation from traffic and homes/drives.

That, at least, will save me the embarassment of whimpering in the midst of the urban public when I implode.

Darwin vs Lenin

The news has been a trifle strange this week, a rash of new home made celebrity nudie shots and the new lower body weight of The Crocodile.
As part of the conversation on Sunday with The Crocodile he stated that if his body weight went lower he'd find a way to cheat the weigh-ins, maybe lead underwear will help.
Also found hot off the wires, those old school commies still can pack a punch, as a drunk in Belarus found out.

Here's the full report from AP -

Lenin statue collapses, kills man in Belarus

(AP) – 9 hours ago

MINSK, Belarus — A massive statue of Soviet founder Vladimir Lenin collapsed on a man who was hanging from it Monday, killing him on the spot, authorities said.

The 21-year-old man was drunk when he climbed onto the five-meter (16-foot)-high plaster monument and hung from its arm, the Emergency Situations ministry said. It then broke into pieces and he was crushed.

The statue in the southeastern Belarus town of Uvarovichi was built in 1939.

"The monument's heavy head tumbled on him," said Nataliya Bolbas, a principal at a school in Uvarovichi facing the monument.

President Alexander Lukashenko is a staunch admirer of the Soviet Union, and the nation still has numerous Soviet-era monuments to the revolutionary leader.

Copyright © 2009 The Associated Press. All rights reserved.

The shoulder

Sunday was the appointed day for a longer, flattish ride. The route chosen covered a fair bit of new ground, had a mix of terrain, some long flat sections, some rolling hills, a fair dose of wind and no major climbs.
We started with a reasonable size group and the pleasant surprise of dry roads. The planned route was to go North and East to reach Waiwera via Country roads, then return out the way we had come and branch off around through Helensville and Kumeu.
By the time we had hit the top of Albany Hill the wind was building and the group thinning. The Worm was only ever going to be with us for the one hundred kilometre option and he left us at the top of Albany Hill, after providing us with some sterling work across Red Hills Road and Ridge Road.
Doris and Mike departed shortly after, Doris suffering an interesting speed wobble down the the fast descent of Kennedy Road.
After that we settled into some serious lapping and rigorous keeping of shared work. The next excitement was Serge's decision to exit stage left on a righthand corner on the metal road section into Waiwera. His straight ahead instead of right bearing was an interesting way to take the corner. Luckily his Look remained upright and apart from a few Russian grunts his pride appeared to be intact.
At Waiwera we noticed that the wind was now quite strong and favourable for the next leg of our journey We were now faced with 50 kilometres of flat, interspersed witha few small rollers. Fast fun was looming.
After we came back out of Waiwera we had a great tailwind section. There Junior and Mike T, hence forward known as "The Crocodile" due to his new skinnyness, wound the pace up a notch. It was good, fast fun. Their lap done and the pace eased a little, remaining steady, still fast, but not in the forties anymore. Unfortunately the high pace and the winds started to catch out the heavyweight, Mysterex. Before long he was pleading with us to leave him out there to ride his own way home.
We recommended that he stay with us and we shepherded him back to town. During a drink stop at Kumeu, he commented that he would most likely still be rolling around out there that evening, a wind tossed fifty nine kilogrammes and miserable, if we hadn't been strict with him.
The tailwind fun turned to a crosswind near Woodhill and decent sort of slog. It was good for the soul.
The last section in, on the Norwestern Bike Path, was just a pure exercise in gritting teeth and getting it over with.
It was a great ride, saw some new roads and felt the incipient Spring.
We will repeat the ride up there, maybe just wish for a little less wind.

Biker down

From Stuff.co.nz

Grim news indeed.

Know your gifts.

Back to my knitting and away from recent diversions. I'm guessing that most of you didn't read the blurb I wrote about the National Cycleway when it was buried in the back of a post where I railed at Jorge the Insipid. This is damn important for us all as cyclists, so I repeat the meat of the article again.

Interestingly, only two readers have followed either of the links, and one was from Manchester, England! It is important to understand what we are getting with the National Cycleway, and what it means, so at risk of sounding like a nag, here it is again-

The new National Cycleway announcements are indeed exciting, and are neatly summarised with maps and overviews here:-

http://img.scoop.co.nz/media/pdfs/0907/NewZealandCyclewayQuickStartTracks.pdf

I do commend the Government for this initiative and the vision that is behind it, but I think there is currently a great deal of misunderstanding in the wider cycling community as to the form that these cycle paths will take. From reading the summary of the Quick Start Tracks all of the tracks will be metal and unsuitable for road bike use.

The aim appears to be to establish a network of trails similar to the Central Otago Rail Trail and the Christchurch to Little River Rail Trail. These trails are important and will provide new exercise and recreational opportunities, but may not provide a feasible, safe alternative to existing roads that are too dangerous to currently ride. A good example is the proposed track from Paeroa to Waihi. Currently SH2, running through the Karangahake Gorge, is far too narrow and busy to consider riding comfortably, but it is the only road that runs across the bottom of the Coromandel Peninsula. A good sealed track should be mandatory here, so as to allow safe passage through the Karangahake Gorge.

Additionally, at the stage of writing, no formal research has been published by the Ministry of Tourism. Currently they are undertaking research, but how, with whom and where they are conducting this research is not obvious.

To assist with getting the tracks you would like, become active with suggestions to the relevant parties.

Here is one option:-

http://www.tourism.govt.nz/Our-Work/New-Zealand-Cycleway-Project/Keeping-Informed/

Speak up, share your thoughts.

If we don't speak up, then we may lose a great opportunity to have a world class cycle network.

Ewe and Eye

Before Deceiptful Jorge squarks, here's slight antidote to the maudlin list yesterday, it's a list of angry songs. Just five, that's enough anger for one day, even for an Amerikan.

1. Pailhead - Man should surrender
2. Soulfly - No
3. Nine Inch Nails - Piggy
4. Wire - Mr Suit
5. Tool - Hooker with a penis

Em for me

Sitting on the windtrainer is always an immensely spirit sapping experience for me. I reserve it for times that it just can't be avoided. Normally I'm kinda careful with the iPlod and the music choice, but occasionally something slips in and throws a stun grenade in proceedings. Recently all was peachy, then in the random mix slipped Sonic Youth with Superstar. Whoops, heart says slow down and head agrees.
It got me making a mental list of favourite sad songs (oxymoronic, I know), so here they are, my choice of ten of the best, in no particular order.

1. Sonic Youth - Superstar
2. Emmylou Harris - Wrecking Ball
3. Grinderman - Man in the Moon
4. Wilco - At least that's what you said
5. This Mortal Coil - Song to the siren
6. The Byrds - Hickory Wind
7. Jefferson Airplane - Come up the years
8. David Bowie - Quicksand
9. Ryan Adams - Call me on your way back home
10 Barry Adamson - The sweetest embrace

There are another ten that I could easily add, but that would just be indulgent.

You don't miss your water

So, here we go, is it Spring? The optimist in me says it is, the realist tells me that it's just an arbitary date and that the march of the seasons is far more gradual and subtle. The signs are here, blossom bud on cherry trees, magnolias in flower, the resident junior tuis are getting in vocal practise in the pre-dawn and there's a flush of growth on the lawn.

The drawing out of the days starts to mean that the more often shadowed roads are starting to dry out before mid morning. Wonderful for me, because it means that the Karekare Loop will be approachable on Sunday mornings soon.

Any Auckland cyclist worth their salt has ridden this at least once, and have been challenged by beauty of the loop. This is a loop that has variety writ large across it, scenic, pretty, quiet and glass free roads, a range of climbing and swooping descents.

I first rode it when there was a couple of kilometres of metal on Lone Kauri Road, but it wasn't long before that was sealed. The first acscent for me was an adventure, I'd looked at Lone Kauri Road on topo maps, but knew of no one who had driven it or ridden it. I'd ridden to Piha before, also had been silly enough to ride down into Karekare and back out via perilous plunge that is Karekare Road. I vowed I'd never repeat that on a bike again. But the line on the map, Lone Kauri Road drew me and I went back for bit of an explore, what I found was worth the white knuckle descent down into the beach.

As I found out later, there had been quite a few others going through that loop before me, but the metal sections had kept many away. Once the sealing of the loop was complete, then word spread and now it's ridden regularly.

The loop, as I ride it, has two reasonable length climbs, a number of ramps and the longer climb of Lone Kauri Road. It is very easy to add more climbing before the top of Scenic Drive by approaching it from the Swanson end, additionally after you return to Waiatarua it's easy to add a number and variety of climbs depending on the direction you take. Junior and I once threw in the second half of a reverse BCL, on that day we both had enough by the time we reached to top of Christian Road.

From downtown Auckland it's between eighty and ninety kilometres, and approximately fourteen hundred metres of ascending, depending on how you get in and out of town. My favoured route is up to Scenic Drive through Konini Road, then climbing up Scenic Drive to Waiatarua. Over the top and onto Piha Road, traversing across the tops of the Waitakeres, taking the plunge down Karekare Road, then climbing out from the beach up Lone Kauri Road to rejoin Piha Road. Back to Scenic Drive, then following it all the way back to Titirangi.

The beauty of Konini Road is threefold, it's a pretty climb, it carries little traffic and it avoids that nasty, uphill bottleneck out of Titirangi. It's two kilometres at an average of five percent gradient winding up through the bush.

But the whole reason for riding the entire loop is to ride up Lone Kauri Road. It is a multi-layered delight. Six point eight kilometres and gaining three hundred and fifty six metres, sounds like an amble. What it is however, is an opportunity to cook your legs and then ponder what has happened for several kilometres. The ramp out of the beach is a vicious five hundred metres averaging fourteen percent, after that it eases, but still has a couple of ten percent sections. Overall the gradient continues to ease as you climb higher and the last two kilometres average three point five percent. The climb is bush lined with occasional views revealing how high you have climbed and is very sheltered from any wind.

After that, there is a short, winding, fun blast back to the Piha Road. It's on this section of ramps and descents back to Scenic Drive that true fitness (or self control) is revealed. Dug too deep on the way out, or on Lone Kauri Road, and the rolling ramps will be your undoing.

The only caveat to enjoying this loop is the descent down into Karekare, down Karekare Road. It is a very steep one point eight kilometres. Averaging close to twelve percent, the road is narrow, winding with badly shaped corners and one corkscrew section that hits twentyfour percent. Traffic is generally light, but care needs to be taken as the road is close to one lane in width. Make certain your brakes are up to it, the road isn't wet and ride within your limits.

A view of the corkscrew section here.

It is this single, limiting descent that prevents me from enjoying the loop more often through winter.

Here's the profile-

Here's some directions from Mapmyride-

http://www.mapmyride.com/ride/new-zealand/auckland/300124920693382219


I have started and finished the loop from the corner of New North Road and Sandringham Road. Oddly, short of thumping Mapmyride repeatedly, the program kept routing me through the Kingland Railway Station, so just use your noggin and ride along Sandringham Road. I have also routed it up the side of the end of the motorway at Mt Roskill to reach Maioro St, it's completely legal to ride this section and reasonably safe. Unfortunately this new road is not shown on Mapmyride so it's looks just like a straight line through industrial waste land.

Go, choose a day when you feel frisky, take a group and enjoy.